


A Rose By Any Other Name Shouldn't Mean Much

by fumogena



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Blackjac, F/M, There's no way this dude's real name is Erron Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4545687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fumogena/pseuds/fumogena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never one to disappoint General Blade, Jacqui agrees to a solo mission that punts her back onto the wretched surface of Outworld. She's there to complete her goals, even if that means stifling the little voice that tells her she's out of her element among Kotal Kahn's wild and undesirable allies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rose By Any Other Name Shouldn't Mean Much

**Author's Note:**

> Currently thinking on how to make this multi-chapter, but it's hopefully good enough to put up as a oneshot. I have some rough chapters planned out after mulling over this for so long, so look out.
> 
> These two got a loooong way to go.
> 
> _ _ _

She’s more surprised than nervous when she runs across the group training. The symbiotic pair of beast and child rough house in what Jacqui can only assume used to be a flourishing garden. The trampled flowers and dying grass are crushed further as Torr rolls on his side a half dozen times before hopping up. The ground trembles under his mighty leap and Ferra gives a wild, excited shriek as she tackles him. Playfully, Torr falls onto his back and Ferra assaults his rippling chest with her tiny claws and fists, leaving red marks while she continues to laugh.

Jacqui pauses a safe distance from the palace’s rear entrance and watches the scene unfold. She cringes as Ferra’s simple attacks leave streaks of blood in their wake. Torr groans and tries to jostle Ferra off of him, but the girl is quick and squirrely, moving out of his reach as she crawls over his fallen form.

She speaks in an odd language Jacqui doesn’t recognize and wonders if Jin would be able to interpret it—big headed he may be, the monk was incredibly intelligent and his love for learning more on Outworld would surely appreciate the unfamiliar words. Not for the first time since her arrival on Outworld, she misses her team’s presence.

Torr lets out another low groan as Ferra slashes with her fingernails on his chest and he bucks her off of him. She lands a few feet away, crouching like a hyena and eying her friend. Jacqui almost feels sorry for the hulking brute as he staggers to his feet.

Jacqui knows she is being watched and finally sighs softly. With more confidence than what she actually feels, she turns to meet the gaze from the mercenary resting in the shade of the large patio.

“I thought they were friends.” Jacqui nods to the pair squaring off in the center of the ruined garden. “Why are they fighting?”

Erron Black chuckles softly beneath the mask from his casual resting spot on an outdoor chair. His propped up boots on the fragile table make Jacqui question if anyone in Kotal Kahn's service respect the palace property.

A loud crash from the center has Jacqui snapping up in time to see Ferra breaking into a red vase aligning a garden path. The ceramic bursts into a dozen pieces and Ferra rolls through the debris, grunting in pain from the impact. Torr pants from his stance, arms still in the air from flinging the girl away.

“They’re playing,” Erron replies calmly, turning to watch the scene as Ferra hoists herself to her elbows in the ground. She spits out a wad of blood and saliva before she rubs at her mouth, smearing the substance across her plump lips and chin. With a growl she shoves herself to her feet and launches herself at her servant once more.

At the brutal sound of their impact, Jacqui winces. Erron notices and laughs again, smugly under his breath. “What’s the matter, Ms. Briggs? You don’t like it _rough_?”

She immediately ignores the fight and levels him with an icy glare. “I told you, it’s _Specialist_ Briggs while I’m on this peace-treaty mission.”

Erron doesn’t wither under her glare like she had hoped he would. Under the shade of his hat, he meets her eyes boldly, easily.

“And when this ‘little mission’ General Blade sent you on is over…? What should I call you?”

Jacqui’s frown deepens. The way his silky voice says Aunt Sonya’s title makes it clear he doesn’t genuinely respect the older woman, or the leadership that reunited Jacqui with Outworld. She has no doubts that the gunslinger, a man who makes all of his profit when the world is in distress, has little joy that she’s been assigned to keep tabs on Kotal Kahn under the flimsy disguise of pursuing a peace treaty. Kotal Kahn’s jaw clenched tight as Jacqui approached with a new seal from Raiden, her face professional even as she wanted to burst into laughter as the self-proclaimed god had no choice but to accommodate Earthrealm’s visitor. His past refusal to cooperate had proven time and time again to be against his favor, and with Cassie Cage’s face plastered all over news as the newest Champion in Shinnok’s defeat, the Emperor thought better than to spit in the face of her best friend’s babysitting mission.

Because that’s what this is, a babysitting mission beneath Jacqui’s skillset.

Maybe Erron Black is closer to the mark than Jacqui is willing to admit. He’s not impressed with her here but Jacqui won’t give him the satisfaction of being right. A mission is a mission, and Jacqui will do her best no matter the circumstances.

“Don’t worry yourself over my name, Black. With the success of my mission, our paths are highly unlikely to ever cross again,” Jacqui finally answers, clasping her hands behind her back and drifting her attention back to the slowing fight.

Erron raises an eyebrow at the gall of the girl. From her arrival two weeks ago, she almost never let the perfect soldier façade slip. Erron looks at her bare arms missing their gauntlets. Today is the first day she’s been willing to walk around the palace without her choice of weapons strapped to her arms, ever dedicated to her cause. It seems the heat of the new planet finally caught up to her, especially when Jacqui realized Kotal Kahn's warriors didn’t make a move unless he wanted them to, and no one wants to get their hands on Earthrealm’s priceless visitor.

Well, maybe Erron does.

He looks at the scowl on her pretty face and smiles to himself. He can wait, however.

Ferra and Torr smack hands in a rough high-five, incredibly different to the jovial gestures between Takeda and Kung Jin after a great sparring session.

She grins wickedly at Erron under the shade. “Bang-Bang. We do good?”

“Absolutely stellar, Ferra,” Erron drawls. His fingers absently play with his gun’s holster and he nods to Torr. “You too, big guy.”

Torr makes a grunt of satisfaction and allows Ferra to jump onto his arm. She sits on his massive shoulder and grins. Surprisingly, Ferra flashes her sharp teeth and eyes to Jacqui. “Pretty Girl, we do good?”

Jacqui blinks, clearly not foreseeing Ferra’s question of approval. Her eyes dart to Erron and he gives her a shrug before she can remember she shouldn’t be looking to him for help.

“It was… certainly something I’ve never seen before,” Jacqui answers honestly. “Your fighting style is different than what I’m used to seeing in sparring sessions.” Bloody free-for-alls aren’t in Special Forces training guidelines.

Ferra stays silent for a moment, her overactive mind still on a high from her previous workout. She smiles at Jacqui and nods vigorously. “Torr not crush you yet.”

Jacqui crosses her arms over her chest and gives the pair a once-over. “Gee. Thanks.”

Ferra misses the sarcasm or simply doesn’t care. She pets Torr’s head and slides to his back, instructing him to enter the palace. Slowly, they move passed their audience and disappear into the cooler interior of their home.

“I think they like you,” Erron’s voice calls to her. He lifts his boots from the table and places them on the ground, flat and solid as he leans his masked cheek into his hand.

Jacqui isn’t sure how to respond. She definitely isn’t looking to make friends while she stays on Outworld, praying that Aunt Sonya will finally send her a message to pack it up and come home. However, her initial stoic demeanor only took her so far, and once a few days turned into weeks, she slowly warmed up to poking her toes into ‘civil’ territory. Did she really want to be liked by Ferra and Torr? Or any of Kotal Kahn's allies?

She looks at Erron’s distant gaze. When he looks at her, he doesn’t seethe in fury, despite her very goal clashing with his purpose of income. He just looks at her in the way one might look at an intriguing puzzle to be solved.

They have fought before and it’s a little insulting that he seems to put that behind him so easily. _“Water under the bridge,”_ he had said to her on her first day when she was still jumpy at being alone on Outworld. Every little movement had her glaring at her surroundings, arms lifted and ready to blast someone away while the palace residents merely went about their days in peace.

There’s no way Jacqui Briggs is more immature than Erron Black so she swallows her pride and nods. If he can play nice, then so can she.

“Good. They seem sweet once you get past the whole ‘murderous intent’ thing.”

He snorts. “I didn’t say it was a good thing they liked you.”

Her jaw clenches and she tries to look more angry than perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” he begins slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. He presses himself further into his chair until it leans on two legs. “They’re pretty possessive. Next thing you’ll know, they’ll be dragging your ass all over the palace and biting off the head of anyone who looks at you wrong. Say good-bye to sleep. They’re not the sneakiest pair around, but in the dead of night, who can really defend themselves against a two ton giant and his driven master?”

Jacqui remains silent, her mind working itself into a frenzy at the thought of waking up in her palace room and seeing one glaringly red eye at the end of her bed. Erron seems incredibly convinced on their shenanigans.

“Oh.” Jacqui places her hands on her hips and she stares at him curiously. “They did it to you.”

It’s not a question, but a fact. A fact she’s sure of when Erron tenses in his seat and drops all four legs of the chair back to the ground.

She laughs. The image of Erron being yanked from bed and literally being _dragged_ on the floor like some sort of favorite doll makes her insides melt. “They _love_ you, Black?”

Erron likes her laugh but is more pressed by the fact that she’s making fun of him. “I wouldn’t use that particular word.”

“Oh, grow up,” Jacqui snickers. “They’re your friends.”

Erron shudders in disgust and bolts to his feet. “…This conversation is over.”

Jacqui rolls her eyes but doesn’t try to stop him. That would be ludicrous, insisting he stay and keep her company just when he was proving to not be so terrible.

“Good-bye, Erron.” Jacqui waves to him as he moves passed her, a smile still at her lips.

Erron makes a grunt, unable to completely ignore her when she uses his name. Or what she assumes is his name. It sounds nice coming from her mouth when she’s not spitting venom in the same breath.

The thought of telling her his real name, of admitting the true identity of Erron Black, flits through his mind as desire to hear it from her voice engulfs him. Then, another sweet and terrible giggle echoes down the hall and he quickly discards the absurd thought.

He doesn’t stop walking until he gets to the throne room and asks for a new mission. Anything to get out of the palace and away from a woman who, with a single gentle word, was able to make him question his freedom of anonymity. Jacqueline Briggs is a tempting, dangerous challenge he was eager to play with. She pushed back with her sincere smile and had him toppling over like a smitten fool.

Frustration moves in his stomach as he is assigned a new group to patrol with. The Osh-Tekk warriors line up behind him dutifully, always respecting his command. They have no idea how unfit he feels to lead them anywhere but this challenge is more comfortable, more reasonable.

With a tilt of his head, the warriors follow him out of the palace and into the afternoon sun. Each step away from the palace gets them further into the unforgiving heat of the day. For Erron, it is a welcome sensation compared to what is boiling beneath his chest.


End file.
